I feel out of place in this house.
At 3 a.m., it’s almost silent. It’s almost completely dark. Because it’s not my house, I notice every little sound and every faint glowing light on electronic devices. But the only sound I really notice is the quiet, rhythmic breathing of my sleeping friend in the next room.
I haven’t slept much this week, because I’ve been sitting up at night with a friend who had major surgery last week for life-threatening cancer.
I’m not much of a nurse, but that’s not why I’m here. She just needs someone to help her get to a bathroom every hour or two. She has drain lines to clean and empty. Incisions to clean and bind. Medications to take. Pain to endure.
I’m just here to help her stand and then to lie back down. To move a bandaged leg that can’t move much on its own. To make sure she doesn’t fall.
As she sleeps in unpredictable intervals, I have a lot of time to think. Since I’ve known this friend since we were both children, you would think I would be worrying about the stage 4 cancer that threatens her life. But that’s not where my thoughts are tonight.
Instead, I’m thinking about my own life.
Maybe that means I’m selfish. Or maybe it just means I’m human. Or maybe it’s God’s way of putting me into an uncomfortable place of asking myself questions that scare me.

Her dad didn’t want to help her, so here’s a jack-o’-lantern for Hannah
Shallow thinking and arrogance led to ruin of once-great society
The Alien Observer: I’m not going to change — and you’re not, either
Police shut down dealer in the never-ending ‘War on Lemonade’
For pure ignorance, it’s hard to beat Occupy Wall Street protest signs
Without the state, who would plow roads? We and our neighbors will
Cult’s targeting of family funeral points to folly of speaking for God
We project an image for others, but few see us as we really are
Goodbye, Sonny